


Nothing Wrong with Wanting to Protect You

by Odae



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:48:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24826330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Odae/pseuds/Odae
Summary: Sokka witnesses an assassination attempt on Zuko.
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 21
Kudos: 760





	Nothing Wrong with Wanting to Protect You

“What is this?”

Zuko looks up from his full-length mirror to see Sokka striding briskly into his chambers, a rolled up sheet of paper clutched tightly in his balled fist. He unfurls the sheet and holds it out to Zuko once he’s standing next to him. 

“There’s nothing on there,” Zuko deadpans, turning back to the mirror to resume adjusting his sash. 

Sokka balks and looks at the paper, then shakes his head. “Had it the wrong way,” Zuko hears him mumble, and then Sokka turns it around to reveal an illustration of Zuko’s father and several characters written on the other side. “There!”

Zuko glances at it briefly. “Oh, that,” he says dismissively. 

Sokka stares at Zuko, then back at the paper, and then once more at Zuko. 

“Are we not reading the same thing?” he asks disbelievingly. He shakes the paper in Zuko’s face. “It’s a New Ozai Society poster! Looking for new recruits! To kill you!”

“I know, Sokka,” Zuko says sharply, pushing the other man’s arm away. 

“Why aren’t you freaking out?” Sokka demands. “We got rid of the society years ago. Now it’s suddenly springing back up and advertising an assassination attempt? We’ve got to launch another—”

“It’s not ‘suddenly springing back up,’” Zuko interrupts him. He takes a moment to check his hair in the mirror, pulled tightly into its top knot and hairpiece, before he finally faces Sokka. “There are posters like that all over the Fire Nation. There have been for years.”

“What?” Sokka asks. “Why am I just finding out about this now?”

Zuko shrugs. “I didn’t want you to worry,” he says. “It’s not a big deal. We used to have people tracking them down, but the society never actually did anything, and eventually there wasn’t a point. It’s fine.”

“‘Fine?’” Sokka repeats. He points to a line on the poster. “Maybe you missed this part: they literally say they want a team specializing in stealth to kill you.” He throws his arms in the air. “‘Kill you,’ Zuko!”

“Yeah, I can read, too,” Zuko says pointedly. 

“We should double your guards,” Sokka says, starting to count on his fingers as he thinks to himself. “We’ll put them at the windows and in the hall, and we can get even more at night. Oh!” His eyes go wide with revelation. “We should ask Suki to send some Kyoshi Warriors again.”

Zuko sighs. “I knew this would happen if you found out.”

“What, that I would try to keep you alive?” 

“Sokka,” Zuko says impatiently, “this isn’t your job. You’re not a guard; you’re an ambassador.”

“Actually, Admiral Chen called me your ‘paramour’ the other day,” Sokka replies with a self-satisfied grin.

Zuko snorts an uncharacteristically graceless laugh. “That’s very her,” he says. He turns away and moves toward a chest of drawers to put away the extra robes laid out by an attendant that morning. “Either way, you shouldn’t have to worry about any of this.”

Sokka’s eyes are soft as he watches Zuko move around the room. “Can you please just understand that it would kill me if something happened to you?”

Zuko slams a drawer shut. “I don’t need you to protect me, Sokka,” he says impatiently. “It’s not like I’m another sixteen-year-old princess with a death wish.”

The cavernous room goes silent. Unease climbs up Zuko’s spine, crawling over his scalp, filling his body and keeping him rooted to the ground as he waits for Sokka to reprimand him, to tell him he’s gone too far. A stillness fills the air, up to the high ceiling, so that even the drapes at the windows and in each corner of the room hang heavy and motionless. Sokka still hasn’t said anything. Zuko finally turns around to look at him. The hurt is so clear in his face, in his wide eyes and the slackness of his jaw. Zuko hates himself, suddenly, acutely, for having caused it. 

“Sokka, I—” 

Zuko reaches toward Sokka, but stops himself when he sees Sokka’s face harden. The backs of Zuko’s eyes burn.

Suddenly Sokka’s at the door, pulling at the handle roughly despite the ease with which he normally opens it. He pauses in the space between Zuko’s room and the hallway. “I’m telling your guard to double up tonight,” he says, still not looking at Zuko. He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’ll be with the engineers if you need me.”

The door closes, and Zuko is alone.

* * *

For the first time in a long time, he doesn’t see Sokka for the rest of the day. And he isn’t the only one to notice. In a meeting with Earth Kingdom dignitaries over a land dispute, Admiral Chen leans over and asks the Fire Lord quietly, out of the side of her mouth, “Where’s Sokka? He’s the only one who can get on these guys’ good side.”

Zuko just shakes his head and puts on a smile for their guests, ignoring the rise of Admiral Chen’s eyebrows.

That night, Zuko leaves the lamp on and sits on one of the settees in his bedroom. He nurses cup after cup of chrysanthemum tea and pretends to read a letter from Aang, but when he realizes he’s read the same paragraph three times, he’s forced to confront the fact that Sokka isn’t coming. He snuffs out the light and climbs into bed, staying on the left side and trying to ignore the wide open space on his right. He stares at the canopy above him and focuses on the slow pace of his breathing.

Minutes, or maybe hours, later, Zuko sits up when he hears the window blow open.

“Sokka?” he calls into the darkness. 

There is no response. 

He lights a fire in his palm and surveys the room. The tea pot and his cup are still out along with Aang’s letter, and his robe is still flung over the chair in the corner. A chill breeze flows in through the open window and stirs the drapes. Zuko sighs and rises to close the window. He looks out on the garden beneath him and up at the waxing moon above him. The night is still and quiet. He shuts the window, making sure the clasp is secure. 

Zuko turns and freezes. A figure clothed entirely in red, blood red, wearing a white mask, stands only a few feet away from him, crouched in an attacking stance and holding a sword in one hand. As he falls into his own stance, the figure rushes forward, and all Zuko feels and hears is the heat and roar of fire rushing out of his hands. The fire dissipates, and Zuko finds the figure flat on the ground, looking up at him with a deep tilt of their head. He thinks he hears a snicker from them. 

A crash sounds from the door, and Zuko looks over to find Sokka rushing in, armed and ready with his sword and his boomerang. Two guards follow behind him, each holding another red figure in a headlock. 

“Sokka,” Zuko breathes, relief crashing over him.

But Sokka still looks panicked.

“Zuko, behind you!” he yells as he throws his boomerang.

Zuko turns just in time to see another figure directly at his back, and he swears he can almost make out a smile through their mask before a club swings straight down on his head.

* * *

The room Zuko wakes up in is dark. It’s the first thing he notices before the pain rolls in, suddenly and mercilessly, like a tidal wave, and he has to close his eyes and grit his teeth while he waits for it to pass. 

“You’re awake!” he hears, and Zuko cracks his good eye open to find two blue eyes and a warrior’s wolf tail at his side. He didn’t realize he’d made a sound.

Zuko tries to nod, but Sokka reaches out and touches his forehead with one of those big hands of his, brushing Zuko’s hair out of his face and stilling him. 

“Good to see you back with the living,” he says with a small smirk. “I’ll get the doctor.”

He rises to leave, but Zuko manages to grab his shoulder. Sokka stops and waits. The pain subsides to a dull throbbing, finally, and Zuko can sit up and open his eyes. He takes in the room as they adjust to the dark. The bed he’s in is covered in white sheets and thick furs. He can make out a wolf helmet mounted on the far wall. And the desk in the corner is littered with scrolls and scraps of paper Zuko can only assume are blueprints and various inventions in progress. 

This is Sokka’s room.

“Why—”

“It seemed safer,” Sokka explains with a smile, crouching at the side of the bed again. “While we made sure there weren’t others.”

Zuko nods and keeps taking in his surroundings. The last time they were in Sokka’s room together was maybe a few weeks before, when they had a chance to sneak off for a few minutes between meetings. Admiral Chen kindly averted her eyes when they returned for the naval council and Sokka realized he put his tunic back on inside out. Otherwise, they mostly sleep in Zuko’s room, and their trips here don’t usually leave Zuko with much time to examine Sokka’s choice of decor. He now finds he likes it.

“You were right about the windows.”

Zuko expects Sokka to laugh at that, but he only sighs. 

“Yeah,” he says, “I guess.”

Despite the groan in his head, Zuko leans over the side of the bed to frame Sokka’s face with his hands. He stares at the planes of his face, the stubble on his cheeks, and it strikes Zuko how beautiful Sokka is, yet again, despite the bags under his eyes and the tense look of his jaw. Zuko kisses his cheek gently, and then the space between his eyebrows. Sokka inhales sharply in surprise—between the two of them, Zuko is not usually the more affectionate one—but he closes his eyes as he leans into his exhaustion and Zuko’s touch. Zuko brushes his lips again between his eyes, and then down the bridge of his nose, almost as though drawing a dotted line down the middle of Sokka’s face. When Zuko finally reaches his mouth, Sokka relaxes enough to place his own hand on Zuko’s face and press back up against his lips, slowly and sweetly. 

“Thank you,” Zuko says quietly as he pulls back. He bites his lip. “And I’m sorry.”

Sokka’s eyes open, and he gives something of a laugh. “It’s not your fault you got attacked.”

Zuko shakes his head. “About what I said before,” he says haltingly. 

He doesn’t need to clarify any more. Sokka nods once. “It’s fine.”

“No, it isn’t,” Zuko presses. “It was cruel, and I was wrong.” He takes Sokka’s other hand. His voice sounds hoarse when he says, “I’m sorry I hurt you.”

Sokka rises and presses another kiss to Zuko’s mouth. “Don’t worry about it,” he says with his trademark good nature. He gives Zuko a crooked smile. “Really.”

Zuko nods and looks down at his lap. “I wondered if it was why you didn’t come to bed,” he says. He sounds ashamed still. 

Sokka looks at him quizzically. 

“Oh,” he suddenly says, understanding dawning on his face. He sits gingerly on the edge of the bed. “You know it wasn’t, right?”

Zuko smiles sheepishly. “I do now.”

Sokka sighs and shifts in his seat. “I was patrolling with your guards.” He smiles at the surprise on Zuko’s face. “I didn’t tell you because I thought you’d tell me I was overreacting again.”

“I would have,” Zuko admits. 

Sokka squeezes his hand. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with wanting to protect you,” he says in a low tone. “And it’s not because—” Sokka stops and clears his throat. “It’s not because of what happened at the North Pole.” His eyes meet Zuko’s. “I really don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you.”

All they can do is look into each other’s eyes, the details of their faces obscured by the relative darkness of the room but for the daylight creeping its way from behind the curtains. Sokka waits for Zuko to admonish him, to maybe tease him for being so soft, but it doesn’t come. Instead, Zuko shifts forward and puts his arms around Sokka’s waist, pulling into him tightly. He tucks his head into the space between his shoulder and his neck, so Sokka can feel his breath on his collarbone, and waits.

Finally, Sokka laughs lightly and hugs Zuko back, adjusting slightly to hold him fully in his arms. 

“I’m glad you were there,” Zuko finally says into his skin. He smells like leather and salt and himself. “I love you.”

Sokka pulls back to brush the hair out of Zuko’s eyes, and then kisses him once more. “Yeah, me too,” he says in a low tone.

Zuko gives him a soft smile, and shifts away. He grimaces at the pain in his head as he begins pulling the furs back and moves his legs over the side of the bed. He looks up to ask Sokka to help him find his robe, only to see a stern look on the younger man’s face. Zuko smiles hopefully.

Sokka pushes him back onto the bed. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks, bewildered. 

Zuko almost looks offended. “We have a meeting with the Earth Kingdom dignitaries today.”

“Are you kidding? You just got whacked in the head,” Sokka cries. “Hard!”

Zuko winces at the volume of his voice. “They’ll be expecting us.”

“Uh, no, they won’t,” Sokka says, noticeably lowering his voice. He crosses his arms and grins at Zuko in a challenge. “I had your schedule cleared for the next two days.”

“What?” Zuko exclaims. “Why would you do that?”

Sokka shakes his head at him. “Zuko, a team of deadly assassins broke in and tried to kill you last night. You don’t think you might need a couple of days off?”

Zuko smiles at him in an attempt at assurance. “I’m fine,” he insists.

Sokka groans and gently pushes Zuko back down onto the pillows. “Did we not just have the same conversation?” he asks.

“That was different,” Zuko argues as a fur is pulled up to his chin.

Sokka hangs above him, his hands leaning into the mattress on either side of Zuko’s head. “Please,” he says, “will you just let me take care of you?”

Zuko stares up at the bright blue of Sokka’s eyes. At once, he is transfixed. All he can do is nod mutely, and Sokka gives him a relieved grin before pecking him on the lips. 

“Good,” he says, hauling himself back up to a standing position. He gestures to the door with his thumb. “Now I’m really going to go get the doctor.” He sets off.

Zuko’s hand steals out from under the covers and reaches for Sokka’s once more. He misses. “Wait,” he calls out.

Sokka watches him expectantly, his whole body turning and stilling to listen to Zuko. 

“Will you—” Zuko glances away. “Will you stay with me a little longer?”

He looks back to find a grin plastered on Sokka’s face, and his eyes crinkling affectionately. Sokka comes closer and pulls open the covers. 

“Of course,” he says simply.

And he climbs right into bed.

**Author's Note:**

> this came from a prompt on tumblr again!


End file.
